Remembrance
by DarkMarkBella
Summary: Set just moments after Bellatrix's escape from Azkaban. Story of The Order of the Phoenix from the other side's POV. Bellatrix, Narcissa, Draco, Voldemort, Lucius
1. Chapter 1

_AN: This is set just moments after Bellatrix's escape from Azkaban. I will be following the plot of The Order of the Phoenix, until after the Department of Mysteries_

Chapter One

Narcissa Malfoy hung up her cloak, pausing briefly to dust a piece of lint off the dark fabric. Her fingers found the clasp of her necklace and it fell down into her hands. She placed the diamond necklace on a holder, reliving the joy she'd felt when her husband had presented it to her last Christmas. Things were easier then, quieter. The Dark Lord hadn't returned and she had her husband back – he was happy, felt safe. Things had changed. She sighed slightly, torn between her loyalties.

She combed her long blonde hair, flicking it expertly over her shoulder. Getting ready for bed, she didn't expect the frightened voice of her son from a few doors down.

"Mother!" he shouted. "Mother!"

Narcissa put down the hairbrush. "Draco?" she called out in response. "What's the matter?"

She found him in the corridor, hand resting on the banister of the tall staircase.

"There's someone in the garden. By the statues," he told her.

Narcissa frowned, returning to her room to fetch her wand. With it in hand, she quickly strode to the stairs. "But the enchantments, they're only supposed to let family through," she muttered more to herself than Draco. "Get your father," she called to Draco, who was standing helpless at the top of the staircase. He nodded and moved towards his father's study.

Lucius joined Narcissa in the entrance hall. Together they draw their wands higher, both casting _Lumos_ non-verbally. They stepped out into the courtyard, eyes searching round the gardens for signs of movement.

Something caught her eye and she turned, noticing Draco had also stepped out of the house. "Get back inside," she hissed, whipping her wand round to push him inside, closing the door in front of his face.

"Who's there?" Lucius said out into the night. "Show yourself…" They stepped further out into the shadows. "I'm warning you! Show yourself!"

A high-pitched cackle echoed in the enclosed garden. Narcissa turned, casting her wand light towards a statue. "Who's there?" she called, voice trembling a little.

A shadow moved from behind the statue, a silhouette appeared, shapeless and small. "Cissy? Is that you?" came a whisper.

"Who is that?" Narcissa replied, mind working over the facts of the situation. An idea suddenly dawned on her. "Bella? Is that you?" Her voice was a crisp whisper, barely believing what was before her.

From behind the statue stepped Bellatrix Lestrange, dressed in rags, hair wild and out of control. Her eyes flickered madly and she clutched the wand she'd been able to retrieve from the guards tower before Disapperating. She stood hunched, as though bearing a great weight. Her feet were bare and she shivered in her small ragged dress.

"Oh, my… Bella!" Narcissa lowered her wand and ran over to her sister, placing a protective arm around her shoulders. As she began to lead the dishevelled witch into the Manor, Narcissa noted that her sister rested on her a great deal more than she would have expected. Bellatrix was always strong and here she seemed so broken. "Let's get you inside, in the warmth."

Lucius followed, a concerned frown adorning his features. He put down his wand, but did not put it away. Bellatrix was armed and they never had gotten on – he feared Azkaban would have broken her already fractured mind.

"He's back," she muttered, barely seeing where she was going. Narcissa shushed her and tried to keep her moving, but Bellatrix kept stopping, asking incessantly, "He's back? My Lord has returned?"

Once inside, Narcissa sealed the door, leading Bellatrix into the main living room of the Manor. With a wave of her wand, she lit the fire and pulled a chair close to it. Sitting Bellatrix down in front of the flames, she got the full view of what Azkaban had done to her sister.

She was gaunt, emaciated; her hair a tangle of curls and frizz. The robe she was wearing was tattered, falling off her bony shoulders. Several scars and deep cuts adorned her arms and legs and, where she could see through the material, her chest and back too. She bore the tattoo of her Azkaban prison number on her long neck and Narcissa knew no magic would remove it. Bellatrix trembled slightly, and Narcissa was sure it wasn't just from the cold. She placed her hand on her sisters' knee, eyes probing the dark menacing ones before her.

"Are you okay?" she asked, immediately admonishing herself for her foolish question.

"Cissy, tell me," Bellatrix pressed. "Has my Master returned?" Her eyes sparkled in the fire light, a gleam of madness and obsession present.

Narcissa sighed, feeling she'd get nowhere whilst this question remained unanswered. So she looked up at the dark haired witch. "Yes, Bella, He's back," she said quietly.

Bellatrix started to laugh, a manic cackle that built with intensity, and clapped her hands gleefully together. "I knew it! I knew it! I could feel Him," she said, a strange lilt to her voice. Her eyes fell down to her left arm, and she fingered the mark there with interest. "I felt Him calling me, and now, now I get to return to his side, his most faithful!"

"Yes, but first you must get well," reasoned Narcissa. "Come with me, I'll bathe you, get you a hot meal, some clothes… Come Bella, please." The blonde tossed her hair and moved to support Bellatrix in standing. Together they moved to leave the room and climb the stairs to the bathroom. Over her shoulder Narcissa said, "You might want to tell the Dark Lord she has returned and that his plan to take over the Dementors has been successful. You will tell him to wait, of course, to see her. She is not strong enough yet."

"Yes I am! I have strength enough for him," Bellatrix tried, ignoring Lucius curt nod, but got no further. On their way to the bathroom, Bellatrix noted a tall blonde haired boy peering out from behind a half closed door. Her eyes met his and she gave him a serene smile which seemed totally out of place on her otherwise haggard face. "Your son has grown, Cissy," she commented as they walked past.

Narcissa turned on the taps and quickly filled the claw foot bathtub with water and bubbles. Helping her sister out of her ragged dress, heart rate increasing as she took in the bruises and marks that covered her flesh. Holding back tears, Narcissa helped Bellatrix into the bathtub and began to wash her dirty skin, gently as she could, with a yellow cloth. Slowly the dirt began to fade, leaving pale skin that was almost translucent. Bellatrix didn't flinch, not even when Narcissa ran the cloth over her open wounds, cleansing them. She glanced down, a look of desire in her eyes when her sister washed her Dark Mark. It pulsed and caused Bellatrix to breathe in suddenly.

Choosing a brown bottle from the shelf, Narcissa tackled Bella's hair, combing through the thick cream coloured liquid that seemed to melt through the tangles and wild curls leaving sleek locks behind. Satisfied, Narcissa rinsed the liquid off, gently stroking Bellatrix's forehead as she did so, fearing her sisters lack of response to the pain of the water on her cuts was something serious.

Summoning a towel Narcissa pulled Bellatrix out of the bath, wrapping her tightly in the fluffy material. She shivered despite this, and Narcissa led her quickly to one of the spare bedrooms. She left her there momentarily whilst she fetched a night gown and night cloak for her to wear, dressing her as though one would a child. Bellatrix said nothing during this, her eyes busy with thought.

"Now, Bella, are you hungry?" Narcissa asked, eyes searching her sisters face.

For a moment Bellatrix did not respond, sitting down on the bed instead and folding her arms around herself. Eventually she looked up, shaking her head to indicate she wasn't.

"Let me treat those wounds," Narcissa said, summoning two potion vials, a cup and a new cloth. Gently she applied the first potion to Bella's cuts, watching satisfied as they began to close into thin lines. Taking the second potion she poured a measure into the cup, handing it to Bellatix to drink. She took it, sniffed it, then drank it willingly. It seemed to make her feel better as she unfolded slightly. Her eyes got heavy and she blinked slowly.

"Come now, rest," said Narcissa hastily, pulling back the dark sheets of the bed. "Rest…" Bellatrix fell beneath the sheets, eyes closing almost immediately. Narcissa had seen the physical damage done to her sister but had no way of knowing the extent of the psychological damage. From what she knew of Azkaban it drove people mad. Bellatrix had been there for 14 years; Narcissa could only imagine how disturbed she had become – she hadn't exactly been all together before her incarceration.

Whilst Bellatrix slept, Narcissa quietly left the room, meeting her husband in the hall. "Well?" she asked.

"He has been told," Lucius replied, voice hushed. "How… How is she?"

"Resting," came Narcissa's tearful reply. "She's so broken, Lucius."

He nodded, seemingly understanding. Narcissa fell into his arms and sobbed gently. He rubbed her back, fingering the fair hair that trailed down her back. She pulled away, wiping her eyes, and looked up at him. "I don't think we've seen the worst of it yet," she said. "I think it's affected her more than she's letting on. I'm going to stay with her tonight, in case she wakes." They kissed goodnight and Narcissa returned to the bedroom with Bellatrix. Lying next to her sister, she tucked the blanket tighter around her, brushing a lock of curly hair out of her face as she did. There was more damage to see, Narcissa knew that, but for now she would rest.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

The sun rose early, casting beams through the diamond shaped window pane. Narcissa opened her blue eyes, blinking in the sunlight. There was a moment of peace where she just lay there enjoying the warmth on her face. Then she sat up suddenly, remembering the events of the previous night.

Bellatrix was sat on the end of the bed, eyes fixated on her left forearm. She didn't move as her sister drew nearer, brows furrowing into a frown as she trailed a long fingernail over her Dark Mark.

"When can I see Him, Cissy?" Bellatrix whispered, voice hoarse as though she had spent the last 14 years screaming.

"Soon, Bella," Narcissa replied. "First, let's get your things. You can stay here as long as you need." She didn't think her husband would appreciate her offer but at that moment she didn't care. "You stay here, I'll go to your house."

Absentmindedly, Bellatrix flicked her eyes to Narcissa. "Rodolphus escaped too," she said, voice devoid of all emotion. Narcissa knew her sister didn't love her husband but she was surprised Bellatrix hadn't mentioned it earlier.

"Oh," she said. "Is he okay?"

Bellatrix said nothing, eyes fixed resolutely down. She gave no indication she cared whether or not Rodolphus was safe.

Letting it go, Narcissa nodded. "Make yourself at home," she said. "I'll be back soon."

* * *

Draco was stood by the sink in the smart kitchen, pressed up by the sink washing a clear goblet under the running water. He stood tall, a deep frown etched on his face.

"What happened to your elf?" came a sudden voice, and Draco dropped the goblet, spinning round on his feet in shock. In front of him stood his aunt, standing in the doorway, a hand with long willowy fingers resting on the door frame.

He took in her appearance, a curious yearning pulling at his senses. He had only heard stories about Bellatrix and seen a few pictures. The woman before him was a far cry from the witch he'd seen in family portraits, though as he looked closer he began to see the resemblance. He'd always know her as a beautiful Black sister, with long luscious black hair tumbling down her back, face porcelain like a doll. But now she looked thinner, the skin pulled tight across her high cheekbones, and her hair, still long, lacked its prior volume.

Through her sisters dressing gown he could see thin scars lining her body, some looking old and faded, others raw. She trembled slightly and he frowned, wondering if this was the effect of the Demantors he'd read about; she didn't seem the type to express fear.

He turned off the tap, turning back to face her with a slight colour to his pale cheeks. "It's a long story," he said, embarrassed by the memory his father had recounted to him. Changing the subject, he gestured for her to sit down. "Would you like some breakfast?" he offered.

Bellatrix stared back at her nephew, appraising him much as he was her. She had known him only as a baby and, for the past 14 year, she'd had no contact with any of her family. Her black eyes searched his face, looking for traces of herself in his form. He looked like his mother, she decided, with the same blue eyes and smooth silvery hair. She felt a smile tug at her lips.

With a nod she sat down, and Draco busied himself preparing toast. He was surprised things didn't feel awkward with his aunt. She was a powerful witch and he merely a student, and they seemed lifetimes apart. But there was a curious connection between them, he felt like he'd known her all his life, like she'd never been absent. He could see traces of his mother in Bellatrix's face. They both held high strong cheekbones and deep red lips. Though she was as dark as his mother was fair, he could see the resemblance.

As they ate in silence, Draco considered the reason his aunt had been absent his whole life. He knew the story, he'd heard it a hundred times. Her notoriety was wide and people often reacted with disgust when they realised he was related to Bellatrix Lestrange. He'd never seen the Cruciatus Curse performed but he'd read about its effects. Knowing she'd tortured Frank and Alice Longbottom into insanity didn't make him sick like he thought it would. It made him interested. Whilst he had no desire to follow in his aunts footsteps, he was intrigued by her mind. Though he had to admit she caused him to feel a prickle of fear. His father had told him about her unhinged mind, her enjoyment of torture and blood, and he'd always wanted to know more, always keen to delve into stories of her.

There was a sudden bang, a door closing, and Bellatrix stood. "That'll be my sister," she said, shooting Draco a small smile before she left the kitchen to find Narcissa.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Bellatrix smiled excitedly, leading Draco into her room. Her wand was cocked and with it she quickly closed the curtains and switched on the bright lights that adorned the walls of her room. It had been a week since her arrival at the Manor and she was growing impatient. She had tried to call the Dark Lord several times since she got back but he did not appear. She felt boredom pinch at her mind for the first time in years. In Azkaban, there was no time to feel boredom; there was simply a feeling of overwhelming despair.

Tuning to him, she smiled again, eyes never leaving his. "Now, Draco, I wish to teach you," she murmured.

The boy stood afraid, not knowing what she had planned for him. Glancing around her room, he took in the well-made bed – the only tidy thing in the room –and the array of potion vials and books that littered the floor. Her dressing table held ornate jewellery, though in the week she'd been here, he'd never seen her wear anything but the bird skull necklace that rested above her breast.

He wondered what she planned to teach him. He knew all too well she had learned the Dark Arts from the Dark Lord himself, and he pondered the spells that might litter her unhinged mind. Would he be able to do magic like that, he wondered, feeling a rise of inadequacy build within himself.

"Take out your wand," she ordered and he followed her instruction, raising the black wand to chest height. "Do you know the spell?" she asked, lowering her voice to a whisper as she leaned forward. " _Crucio_?"

He startled, not expecting her to say that. Draco nodded, eyes wide with fear. Of course he knew the spell. He'd devoured everything he could find about the Unforgivable Curses once he'd learnt what they were. He'd learned Bellatrix was proficient in all three, but particularly adept at the torture curse, and the excitement with which she whispered the incantation made him both recoil and desire more.

The witch ran her tongue across her bottom lip. "Go on, Draco; try it," she said, taking a step away from him, stretching her arms out as she made herself an easy target.

Draco stalled. "On you?" he asked with horror. He'd always been tempted to try it out on animals he'd found in the garden, his fathers' damn peacocks amongst them, but to carry it out on another person… It was illegal, immoral, and he didn't think he had the guts to really hurt his aunt.

"Yes, me," she replied. Sensing his reluctance she took her own crooked wand and pointed it at him. "I can always show you what it feels like?"

He shook his head quickly, not wanting to feel the inexplicable pain he'd read about. He knew she was serious, he was to try the spell out on her or she'd do it to him. He felt sick at the thought of harming her but felt a strange longing to please her. Shaking slightly, he swallowed, readying himself to say the incantation. " _Crucio_ ," he mumbled quietly, and jet of red shot out of his wand, hitting her directly in the stomach.

She grimaced slightly, hand coming to rest on the place he'd hit. "Good boy," she purred. "But you've got to mean it to really hurt me."

"I don't want to hurt you," he admitted, unsure how he was supposed to follow her instructions. But she rolled her dark eyes, then glared at him. "Okay," he offered, raising his wand again. This time he spoke a little more strongly, trying to summon as much desire as he could find. He wanted to see what the spell could do, but he was frightened of really hurting her. " _Crucio_."

This time she fell to her knees, letting out a cry of pain. Immediately, she smiled up at him, evidently pleased with his progress. "You're getting good at this," she praised and he felt himself desperate to please her more.

She was enjoying this, he could tell. He felt a prickle of fear at her response to the pain; it aroused her, and he felt both weak and powerful in the same moment.

One final time he raised his wand, saying, " _Crucio_ ," loudly. She fell forward, gasping in agony. He felt himself able to hold the curse for a few seconds before it lifted and once she'd caught her breath she turned to praise him more.

But there was a sudden bang, and the door flew open. Stood in the doorway was Narcissa, face red with anger. "WHAT are you doing?" she screeched, glancing between Draco and Bellatrix. She had clearly heard the incantation and the cry of pain and disgust was etched into her face

"How dare you!" Narcissa hissed to Bellatrix. "He's my son! How dare you make him do that!" Her eyes flashed dangerously, her wand suddenly pointed at Bellatrix's neck, hands shaking with uncontrolled fury.

Draco looked scared, and, quickly before his mother could admonish him further, he sprinted from the room, closing the door loudly behind the two sisters.

Bellatrix let out a laugh, feeling excitement built inside her. She met her sisters' eyes, black on blue, as though daring her to try and punish her. "Go on, Cissy," she whispered, letting out another cackle when her sister simply frowned. "Never used an Unforgivable Curse, have you? Go on, do it; make me hurt."

Narcissa lowered her wand, breathing heavily. "What has that place done to you?" she asked, shaking her head, tone both disgusted and outraged at the deranged look in Bellatrix's eyes.

Bellatrix pushed her backwards, hard, until she slammed into the wall behind her. "Is little Cissy scared?" she mocked, narrowing her eyes, "I'm still your sister, you know." And with that, she pressed herself against Narcissa, kissing her hard on the lips. The blonde witch responded on impulse, kissing her back for a moment before she realised what she was doing.

In an instant, she had flung Bellatrix away from herself. Panting, she raised her hand and slapped her sister hard across the face. Not expecting this, Bellatrix let out a gasp, but it quickly built into a manic giggle. She was excited by this and Narcissa fought hard to keep control of the situation. "This is MY house, Bella," she said firmly. "We play by my rules, not yours!"

Bellatrix gave a sinister smile. "Don't say you don't enjoy it," she lilted, cocking her head and dropping her gaze to her sisters' bruised lips.

Narcissa said nothing for a moment, letting the air between them stagnate. Finally she met the dark haired woman's gaze and gave an almost impermeable nod. "Things have changed," she said simply. "You have changed."

"I hate it when you're mad at me, Cissy." Though she sounded sincere her face reflected amusement.

The blonde rand her fingers through her hair, trying to get things back on track. "Just… just don't teach Draco that stuff. He's- He's just a boy."

"He's become a man, Cissy," she replied. "It's time you realised that." And after running a finger down the side of Narcissa's face, Bellatrix stepped back and turned to leave the room, feeling no fear that her sister was still armed behind her back.


End file.
